


Celestial Dreams (of an Infernal nature)

by Cap_Sweet_And_Salty_Sadness



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Aasimar Cullen, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Dorian Pavus, Dungeon and Dragons inspired, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, M/M, POV Dorian Pavus, Porn With Plot, Riding, Tiefling Dorian, Top Cullen Rutherford, kinda soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 17:51:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19750753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cap_Sweet_And_Salty_Sadness/pseuds/Cap_Sweet_And_Salty_Sadness
Summary: Cullen drums a beat on the wooden table, puts his hands on his lap when he realizes he's doing it. "I have a confession to make.""If it's of your nature, then I'm sad to admit there's nothing to be confessed. I'm no human either, but the horns and the tail might've given it away."Cullen shakes his head with a small smile, but the red blotches on his cheeks don't fade away. "Not that. I, um, I was told in my dreams that I would find you."Dorian raises his eyebrows. "Not the worst pick-up line I've heard in this place.""No, it wasn't a pick-up line. I mean, it could be, because you're really attractive, but— oh, I'm making this worst, aren't I?"





	Celestial Dreams (of an Infernal nature)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Pride Event on the [Cullrian Discord](https://discord.gg/7Dc9FX) and inspired by my binging of Critical Role Season 2. I tried to follow the fifth edition of D&D, but well, battles are hard.

Dorian is wiping the tables at the end of a long evening, cleaning the spilled ale and the vomit a patron wasn’t able to hold off until he reached the bathroom. His feet are sore and he’s ready to soak in a hot bath, maybe read one of those smutty books Fiona kept in the back of her bookstore. She keeps asking him to work with her, since he loves books, but he also likes working at the inn. 

Cabot is the first person who’s accepted him, barking at him that his pretty face wasn’t going to pay for the ale he was ingesting. Dorian hasn’t been told that so far down in the South, what with the two shiny horns protruding out of his forehead. He’s thought about severing them and filing them close to his scalp, but instead he’s polished them and adorned them with golden bands with his first official earnings at the inn. He enjoys spiting people.

The establishment is the most visited place in the small town, mostly by regulars, but sometimes by adventurers on their way to some distant glory. Dorian serves them ale and gives directions if they ever happen to be heading North.

He lets Felsi know he’s leaving and starts his way on the main street to reach his small home, not far from here. At this time of the night, there’s only a handful of persons still out, and they greet him as he passes by. He smiles and wishes them good night. 

He’s just about to reach for his home key when quick footsteps echo behind him. A ball of fire forms in his hand before he’s even turning around. 

“Sir, I apologise for disturbing you this late, but there’s commotion on the edge of town.” The boy is breathing hard, having ran the whole way here.

“What sort of commotion?”

“The monster kind, sir. There’s some people already fighting them, but I fear they might not be of match.”

Dorian unlocks his door. “Give me a moment.” He goes inside, puts down the leftovers the cook has given him and takes his quarterstaff and sash. Good thing he’s always wearing his robes. He returns to the teenager.

“Lead the way.”

The town isn’t very big, less than a dozen streets, and Dorian’s house is close to the central market, on the main street. The previous owners sold it to him for a cheap price after they’ve been robbed one too many times and he’s helped them get rid of the bandits.

The teenager, he thinks his name is Oren, brings him to the edge of town, to the East gate. Dorian can hear sounds of a fight happening on the other side, and he sees the back of two archer gnolls readying their bows. 

“You stay here,” Dorian tells Oren, and he steps on the other side and closes the gate behind him. The sole guard is on the ground beside it, unconscious. Not surprising.

Now that he has a better view, he sees four gnolls and a wraith flanking two humans. The both of them are sporting heavy armours and a shield and sword. They clearly aren’t prepared for this kind of battle.

He uses the element of surprise to throw his prepared fireball at the archer closest to him. It hits and the gnoll is sent against the other archer, dead. The grass around it also catches on fire, leaving a bare spot.

It turns the attention of the monsters towards him, and he whirls his staff. One of the gnolls close to the woman takes a step towards him, and she uses an opportunity attack and swipes her sword across its back. It slashes through its armour and draws a deep wound in its back. It stumbles, but quickly recovers and continues towards Dorian. 

It charges him with his spear, but he dodges easily. The other warrior steps forward and strikes twice the other gnoll with the spear, then bashes him with his shield. It falls on the ground and doesn’t get back up.

The archer shoots an arrow at the warrior woman, who raises her shield in time to block it. The arrow embeds itself in the already damaged surface. It moves back, away from Dorian. 

The wraith hisses in a guttural language that Dorian doesn’t understand, and raises its arm in the man’s direction. Something dark engulfs his torso, and he grunts, sways. He’s already wounded, blood dripping down one of his cuisses. Dorian could somewhat see with the dim light of the street lamps coming through the gate, the hair cascading down his back in blond curls almost shimmering in the poor light.

The woman lets out a shout and attacks the wraith. She hits it, then again, but it’s hard to tell with her back to Dorian. The gnoll with the spear is still in front of him. He tightens his grip on his staff and casts a spell, tendrils of magic spreading from his outreached hand onto each monster. It definitely works on the one before him, for it starts to whimper and shakes its head to try and get the images out of its head.

Dorian throws a firebolt at it, and it engulfs the creature. It wails and runs away in its fear, eventually trips over itself and falls in the grass, leaving nothing but ashes behind. The man brings his sword close to his chest and closes his eyes for a second. When he opens them, they glimmer with a golden hue that spreads over his whole body, and soon he radiates light in the dark, his sword illuminated as it swings at the wraith again. Its image flickers, and something dark starts dripping from it, thick like liquid wax. 

The archer gnoll suffers from his Weird spell, but still it notches another arrow to its bow, aims for the man, and it almost hits him, but he moves half a step back and it lodges itself in the ground instead.

The wraith is starting to get weak, its image flickering again as it sustains damage from Dorian’s spell. It moves through the man to get to Dorian and drain his life. The wizard grits his teeth and raises his hand, fingers spread, and from it fire shoots towards the creature, effectively killing it for good.

The woman strides to the last gnoll and it has no chance against her sword piercing his chest. It makes a pitiful whine as she uses her foot to dislodge her weapon from its body, and it falls on the ground. 

The three look at each other, uncertain, until Dorian puts his staff in his back harness.

“Were they following you?” He asks, starting to loot the corpses. Nothing of interest, sadly.

“Yes,” the woman replies.

“Because of him?”

The man’s aura is quickly disappearing, and only the interesting amber colour of his eyes remains. “Yes,” he says, sheathing his sword after he wipes it clean with a cloth.

“Mm. It’s fortunate I was here. Can’t you heal yourself?” Dorian approaches and gestures at the blood still dripping down his leg. The woman hasn’t put away her sword.

The man shakes his head. “I used my ability already. We’ve had… a long day.”

Dorian eyes the two, the wariness, road dirt and grime stuck to them. “I can see that. Here, I’m no good with healing spells, but I have a potion.” 

“I couldn’t…”

“Please, I insist. You can thank me by following me back to the inn and explaining why you’re standing outside the town’s gate in the middle of the night.”

The woman stares at him, unblinking, until she sighs and nods as she finally puts away her weapon. 

“Thank you.” The man takes the potion and gulps it down. Colours come back to his face almost immediately. Half of his hair is tied in a complicated bun on top of his head, but some strands have escaped the tie, and he looks lovely. Dorian turns around and opens the gate’s door.

“Come on then.”

He escorts the duo to the inn, where Felsi is surprised to see him again until she spots the travelers behind him.

“Ran into some problem?” 

“More like it ran to me. Felsi, this is… I apologize, I don’t even know your names.”

“Cassandra Pentaghast,” the woman says, nodding at the dwarf.

“Cullen Rutherford,” the man bows, his long hair cascading in front of him. How it doesn’t get stuck in the nooks of his armour is pure magic. It looks like molten waves, simply beautiful. Dorian wants to reach out and bury his hands in it, finds out what it smells like. “Thank you for saving us, back then.”

“I’m Dorian Pavus. It’s of no trouble, I’m known around town to be quite resourceful when it comes to getting rid of unwanted company.” He smiles, feels his tail twitching uneasily. “Felsi, would you be so kind and serve them today’s meal?”

“And mead, if you please,” Cassandra added.

“Of course.”

They sit at a table. There’s a few patrons, but once they glance their way, they return to their respective occupation. It’s late, an hour to glower down at one’s own misery.

Dorian looks at the other two, and while Cassandra is studying her surroundings, Cullen’s attention remains on him. His eyes are a beautiful shade of amber, brighter than it ought to be in this dim light.

“Where are you heading?” He inquires, trying to conceal how flustered he feels by the attention. Perhaps Cullen has never seen a Tiefling before. 

“To Skyhold. We’re to meet some friends there, we were separated by an unfortunate event.”

“Unfortunate event?”

“In the shape of a golem,” Cassandra grunts. 

“Oh. I see. I figured something had happened, for two fighters to be wandering in the middle of the night without at least a rogue or a magic wielder for range offensive.”

Cullen grimaces. “We’re quite new to this adventure life, and the golem took us off guard.”

“Have you been able to reach your friends, in any way, or heard word of them?”

“Yes, we were to come here for supplies before continuing to Skyhold. We were actually hoping they’d already arrived.”

“Describe them to me, I might have seen them. Most adventurers passing through our small joy of a town visit this fine establishment, where I happen to work.”

Cullen and Cassandra list off a Qunari man with horns bigger than his and a dislike of clothing, a small blond elf with a sharp witty tongue and sharper arrows, and another Qunari woman who wields daggers as long as her forearms, which means, _they’re long._ Dorian notices the warmth to Cassandra’s voice as she describes their last companion, and he suspects they’re more than just fellow adventurers. 

“I’m sorry to say I haven’t seen anyone looking like that, in fact the last Qunari I’ve seen was a few months ago. How far did this attack happen? Perhaps if one was injured, they took the time to heal before starting their journey here.”

"Perhaps, but it wasn’t far. We’ll start worrying if they aren’t here by the end of the week,” Cullen explains.

“We forgot to rent a room. I'll go do that," Cassandra abruptly says and finds her feet to go to the counter, leaving Dorian and Cullen alone.

"Charming," Dorian comments. "Her bluntness is refreshing."

"At times. She worries for Adaar." Cullen drums a beat on the wooden table, puts his hands on his lap when he realizes he's doing it. "I have a confession to make."

"If it's of your nature, then I'm sad to admit there's nothing to be confessed. I'm no human either, but the horns and the tail might've given it away."

Cullen shakes his head with a small smile, but the red blotches on his cheeks don't fade away. "Not that. I, um, I was told in my dreams that I would find you."

Dorian raises his eyebrows. "Not the worst pick-up line I've heard in this place."

"No, it wasn't a pick-up line. I mean, it could be, because you're really attractive, but— oh, I'm making this worst, aren't I?"

Cassandra comes back with their drinks at that moment, and Cullen gulps half of his in one take. Dorian exchanges a glance with Cassandra, who huffs.

"He told you already?"

"I believe he's trying to, something about me being dreamy. It's a nice compliment. "

"His guardian told him about you, or someone looking like you, would come to our aid when we'd need it," she explains in simple words.

"Interesting." Dorian takes a sip of the mead, the liquid falling in a mostly empty stomach. Better not drink too much right now. Luckily, Falsi comes back with a serving of hearty vegetable stew for each of them. Dorian goes to pay his part, but Cullen is faster. 

"Let me pay for your meal, it's the least I can do." 

Falsi gives Dorian a wink before she goes to another table. 

"Cassandra, please indulge me, is he always this upfront? Telling me I'm the man of his dreams, paying for my dinner, perhaps next inquiring if I have other extra appendages elsewhere?" 

To her merit, Cassandra looks amused, or at least that grimace of disgust isn't as strong. "I suppose you'll find out soon enough." 

Cullen clearly isn't used to such teasing. He flushes even more and busies himself eating. Dorian finishes his bowl first and yawns. 

"My shift starts early tomorrow, so if you'll excuse me, I'll make my way home. I'll see you then?" 

Cassandra nods at him, while Cullen is more forward and takes his hand. He presses a kiss along his knuckles, the damp imprint of his lips remaining.

“ _Gôd dosig,_ ” he murmurs. It sounds alien, and beautiful. 

"What was that?" 

"Goodnight, in Celestial." 

"Oh. _Qaav luqmz,_ " Dorian says the same in Infernal. He forces himself to let go when he realizes they’re just staring at each other. He returns home. Even after he settles in his bed, his heart is still fluttering. 

He sees them the next day soon after he starts working. He’s serving Cole, a young lonely boy who always looks morose, and himself a cup of coffee when Cullen steps down the stairs, closing the buckle of his belt. His hair is half up again, with a braid above each of his ears and tied around the bun. He’s wearing his full armour, which Dorian can understand in an unknown town. Better always be at the ready, even if Dorian is fairly certain he’s the biggest threat this place has right now. 

“Good morning, Cullen. Slept well?”

Cullen perks up at seeing him behind the counter, where he installs himself. He’s still as handsome in daylight, if not more, with his light stubble and the soft bow of his pink mouth. His armour doesn’t offer much but for his freckled neck and the strength of his bare scarred hands, gloves tucked in his belt.

“Soundly, thank you.”

“Was I in your dreams again?”

Cullen has an embarrassed smile, and Dorian serves him coffee and a still warm pastry in pity. Cole is watching the exchange with interest.

“Dark skin and pale eyes, a tail wraps around your heart and leads you on the right path,” he says, one of his psychic mist overtaking him.

“Cole, don’t read into people’s heads like that. You need to ask first.” He tries to ignore Cole’s words, but it’s difficult when it clearly involves him. He’s never been wrong before either.

“You can see into my head?” Cullen asks Cole, carefully. He’s nibbling on the sweet threat, clearly enjoying it. Sometimes he’ll dip a piece into his coffee before eating it, licking his long fingers clean of crumbs. 

“Yes. Not everyone likes it. I apologize if I offended you, but you feel strongly.”

“That I do.” He’s looking at Dorian again, who’s mortified to feel the back of his neck grow hot. “What else can you tell me of the future?”

This is not a conversation Dorian is willing to hear, so he turns his attention to the other patrons for a while. There’s a small group of adventurers who’ve been staying in town for the past few days, resting after a long quest and spending their coin in supplies and better gear. They’re leaving today and Dorian provides them with information of the area, what kind of monsters and bandits to expect. He’s rewarded with a decent tip.

“You’re kind to everyone here,” Cullen remarks when he returns to the counter. Dorian shrugs, pockets the money.

“They can’t give me gold if they’re dead.”

Cullen makes an assessing sound, then tells him they’re off to the markets for the day. They’ll remain in town until their companions arrive. Dorian assures him he’ll let their friends know of their presence if he sees them, and then they’re off. 

Work is busy that day, and Dorian loses himself in being an amicable host and waiter, serving drinks and food until some people must be escorted outside by Leliana, a gentle bard who has no quarry intimidating people into sleeping off their liquor.

The next thing he realises, dusk has fallen and he's laughing at a patron's anecdote when Cullen is suddenly sitting at the counter, smiling up at him. Cassandra is rolling her eyes behind him, but her face softens at the tall Qunari entering the inn and heading up the stairs. Adaar, he presumes.

"Fancy meeting you here, and I see you’ve found your friends. Are your purses lighter now?"

"Little bit. I got you this."

He pushes a health potion towards him.

"Oh no, I can't take it, I brew mine."

"I insist, your help was greatly appreciated."

Dorian starts to protest again, when Leliana perches herself beside Dorian. "I'll take it if he doesn't."

Cullen glares at her, picks the potion and slips it in Dorian's apron, his hand brushing against his stomach through his clothes. He's blushing when he sits back.

"Thank you," Dorian smiles at him, and Cullen looks pleased. "Anything else interesting you found today?"

"Beside the rest of our party? Supplies and a place for repairs. This town is quiet, but at least it wasn’t difficult to hear Sera’s voice through the streets," Cassandra mentions, sitting down. Dorian serves them water unprompted, which they both accept. He leaves them for a moment, going to the back to retrieve some mead and whatever food has been ordered. He tries not to be aware of Cullen's gaze on him, but then he gets more jittery and almost drops a plate with mugs filled with mead, and only his magic hand avoids the accident.

He's more careful after that, only facing Cullen once he's ready and back at the counter. "Anything I can get you? Today's special is pumpkin soup, with great spices from my home country."

"I'll take it. With the strongest beer you have," Cassandra tells him.

"Me too, but I'll stick to water for the moment."

"Right away."

They switch to a table after that, because soon after Dorian delivers their food, the rest of their party joins them. Two Qunaris and an elf. Once they introduce themselves, they don't bother him for the rest of the evening, chatting and updating each other since they last were together.

He notices Cassandra and Adaar leaves at some point, then Iron Bull changes of table to flirt with a pretty redhead, and Sera claims she wants to explore the town some more before disappearing. Cullen remains and produces a book from a pocket. He reads through Dorian's shift, glancing up from time to time. His eyes are warm every time they meet his. 

He startles a bit when Dorian plops down on the opposite seat with a deep sigh, arching his back until it cracks with a quick succession of solid pops. "What are you reading?" 

"Oh, nothing interesting. A book Cassandra lent me." 

Dorian plucks it from his hands to see the cover he has hidden, and he starts laughing. "Hard in Hightown, volume 3? Well well, a most intellectual read."

"There's a surprising amount of politics in the plot, I'll have you know." 

"Oh I know. I read them all. That Donnen character is quite something." 

"He is. To be fair, the horse that’s carrying all my non-smutty books are with the other party, and it went missing.”

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that. Are you missing anything useful?" 

"No, nothing that couldn’t be replaced. Although, my chess set would've been useful right now." 

Dorian gives back his book, eyeing him. He grabs Cullen's mug and empties it, the mead a bit too warm for his taste but still good enough. 

“Tell me how I appeared in your dreams." 

“It’s… complicated.”

Dorian gestures at the barkeeper with a smile and turns back to Cullen. “The evening is still young, and I’m all ears, especially if it concerns myself.”

They’re brought more mead, and so Cullen tells him.

“When I was thirteen, I started having odd dreams. It was mostly places I’d never been to, far away from the small village I’m from. Deserts with big, large prey birds, with nothing in sight for miles; thick jungles lurked by deadly animals and a tribe of independent Qunari; a city with floating buildings that stand so tall they disappear in the clouds… I still don’t know if those images are from the present, past or future. I thought at first that those dreams were just that, fragments of a child’s imagination, until one night I dreamt and there was someone seated on the edge of a lake surrounding a lone tower. 

“I approached and sat beside them. I remember how cold the water was on my feet, how my toes started to get numb after a few minutes. I turned to them and I… I’d never seen anyone like that before. They weren’t from this world, I knew right away, or at least definitely something more. Loxias, their name is. They told me many things, things to come, what and who to be wary of, and all has been true to this day.

“About a month ago, they told me that a fire-wielding tielfing would light up my path, in many ways, and that I’d be drawn to him. A good man who sought to bring his touch of goodness to this world after he’d been wronged for standing as his true self.”

Cullen drinks deeply, his Adam’s apple bobbing up on his strong, pale neck. Dorian doesn’t speak for a moment, taking it in. 

“Why would they tell you about me?”

“I think it’s obvious, isn’t it? Or perhaps I’ve only been the one feeling this way?” Cullen doesn’t seem comfortable discussing his feelings, but he’s still doing so with a straight face. 

Dorian tilts his head to the side, sizing him up. Too bad he’s still wearing that armour. “I can say I’m attracted to you, definitely. You’re a handsome man, and very charming when you’re blushing.” At his words, Cullen presses a large hand against his own cheek, turning even more red, which makes Dorian laugh with fondness.

“The floating buildings you saw in your dreams, they’re quite a common magical phenomenon in Tevinter. Minrathous, more precisely. That’s where I’m from.”

Cullen nods. “Amazing. I didn’t know that. I’m from a small place in the West called Honnleath, where the houses are well rooted in the ground, and surrounded by thick snow during half the year.” He leans forward and slowly puts his hand on Dorian’s, gently squeezes it when he’s not rejected. The warm swipe of his thumb, a bit wet from the mug’s condensation he’s been holding until now, is almost enough to make him shiver.

“I already know you’re a good, kind person, Dorian, even if you don’t like to admit it. You’d rather make people believe you’re selfish rather than have them take advantage of you.”

That hits close to home. 

“I’m aware I know more of you than you do of me, but—“

"You know, I have a chess set at home,” Dorian interrupts him, trying to keep his tone neutral, but his small smirk betrays his intentions. He turns his hand around so he can tugs on his wrist. Cullen doesn’t resist and follows him outside, into the fresh air of the night. It’s more quiet, too, but Dorian’s head is buzzing with trepidation, _the possibilities_. 

Neither let go until they reach Dorian’s home. Inside, they turn to each other, Cullen sparing a glance around his small house before he’s focusing on him again, like he can’t get enough of looking at him. He cups his face in his warm hands and softly brushes their noses together, breathing him in. 

Dorian presses against the cold metal and the furs of his armour and closes his eyes, giving in the bubbling emotions he’s felt since their first encounter.

“Is this what you want?” He asks him, their breaths mingling together. Cullen makes a small sound of approval and presses their lips together, finally. He kisses him sweetly, his thumbs swiping across his cheekbones. 

“Yes, yes,” he breathes, kissing him again and again. Dorian gasps at the assault, opens his mouth at the warm tongue. Their exchange turns filthier, the built tension cracking open. Dorian unclasps the fur cape, finds the laces of the pauldrons and unties them with their mouths still connected, pulls on the vambraces because he doesn’t want to let go to remove them. 

Cullen is the one who lets go of him with a groan of annoyance to remove them, then he starts on his fauld, messily putting down the parts on the floor. Dorian’s robes are easier to remove, a series of well-worn buckles he deftly opens. 

He sits on the bed once naked and helps with what's left, his cock twitching with interest with every part removed. Cullen tugs his undershirt above his head and unlaces the simple leggings to peel them off his legs, and what a sight to behold. 

"Gorgeous," he says, because it's true. Cullen climbs on his lap, heavy hard muscles and all, and Dorian falls a little bit more in love. He leans down and finds his lips again for a moment, strong fingers trailing down his back until he finds his tail. He gently touches the base and feels Dorian shiver at the motion. 

"Is it sensitive?" 

"Yes. Just, don't tug on it." 

"I would never." 

He continues his exploration, fingers probing and stroking where the tail starts as he trails kisses down his jawline and to his earlobe, bucking into him. Dorian settles his hands on Cullen's hips and meets his thrusts, moaning at the delicious friction. 

Cullen is so lovely on him, all golden hair that feels soft and light when he finally touches it. He takes a handful and brings it to his nose, buries his face in it. It smells just as lovely as he imagined. 

He flips them in the bed, sits down and finds himself rubbing his ass against Cullen’s cock in one swift movement. It’s dry, but the angle drags against his hole and his balls, and Dorian wants nothing more than to ride him like this into oblivion. 

“By the gods, Dorian, I won’t hold on for long if you keep this up,” he says, grabs his ass to bring him closer, always closer, his fingers digging into the plush flesh, and Dorian’s fairly sure that will leave a mark.

“Did you dream of me like this, Cullen, of you fucking me?” He asks, just because he wants to see if that flush goes all the way down his chest.

It does.

Dorian’s tail reaches around and stroke a rosy nipple with a mind of its own, the muscular pectorals heaving with the diverse stimulations. Dorian leans over and takes the other nipple in his mouth, circles it with his tongue until it peaks with interest. The bed creaks as he continues to roll his hips into Cullen’s, his knees spread wide to fit Cullen’s thick thighs. 

He tastes amazing, so he continues to lap and nibble at his skin, leaves red and pink marks that will remind him of the demon with every throb. Dorian hopes they never go away. His own neck will probably sport a few purple bruises the next day, and he’s not protesting the idea. 

“Dorian, please,” Cullen pants, jerking his hips up. 

“Too much?” 

“Not enough. I have oil in my satchel, behind you.”

Dorian drags his lips up his sternum, knowing how his moustache can tickle. “Oh, but I have something better.”

He shows his hand to Cullen and fills his palm with a viscous, magical liquid. Cullen laughs at the sight, dips a finger and actually tastes it, his dark eyes never leaving Dorian’s.

“This must come in… handy,” he comments, smirking. 

“Oh, it does.”

“So what do you plan on doing with it?”

Dorian coats his fingers and arches his back to reach his hole. He circles two digits against it, massages it with a hum, and then he breaches himself.

"Fuck, it's been a while," he gasps, pressing as far as he can. 

"Wait, wait. Turn around, I want to see." 

And so Dorian does, his ass now hovering above Cullen's chest and his calves resting on each side of his torso. He leaves magical lube a bit everywhere on Cullen, but it's worth it, and he can always summon more. The tip of his dick brushes against his muscular torso, and Dorian is tempted to rub himself all over him until he's filthy, dirty with his cum. 

"Let me," Cullen says, picking some lube that has fallen in the pivot of his muscles. He spreads his ass cheeks to get a better view, and his big cock bounces at the sight. Dorian knows because he's leaning against his thigh and has the best view. He can't wait to be filled with such a pretty thing, all pink and leaking for him. 

He moans at the first intrusion, presses back in his hold. 

"Is this okay?" 

"No, add another." 

Cullen chuckles and kisses the curve of his ass before doing so. His fingers are larger than Dorian's, and they feel amazing. He's being careful, slow, and as much as Dorian would normally appreciate it, he's starting to get a little impatient. He shifts and wraps his hand around that hard cock, pumps it a few times for the sounds Cullen makes. 

"Twist your fingers just a bit, upwards… There! Oh, fuck!"

He quivers and loses his grip, falls on Cullen. His fingers are still deep in him, touching the spot that makes pleasure explode in him, and with his cock and balls squeezed between their bodies, it takes everything for him not to cum right then and there. 

"That good, I see," Cullen says, and does it again. Dorian lets out a deep whine, his thighs shaking. He can't breathe for a second, and when he does, he jerks up. 

"You're fucking doing it on purpose, I swear to the gods." Dorian pushes himself on trembling arms to look behind his shoulder, and oh, isn't that a good idea, to scoot back just a bit more and feel Cullen's kiss swollen lips on him, to have him lick him open? With the way he's staring at his ass, he doubts the idea would be refused, but Dorian has other plans for now. 

"Perhaps I am, if only for your reactions."

He's the one to gasp when Dorian slide down his body to rest over his groin and stroke his cock from base to tip, coating it with lube. He's well-endowed, thick like the rest of him, his balls heavy between his legs. Dorian positions himself above and sinks down on it without waiting any further. Groaning, Dorian doesn't stop until Cullen's cock is settled fully in him, his entrance burning so good. He hums and grinds down, Cullen's hands sliding down his back to find purchase on his hips. He doesn't see his expression, but he can easily imagine it, his mouth opened with pleasure, his pupils dilated, his hair askew around him. 

"How's that for a reaction?" He teases, biting his bottom lip as he continues grinding, then raises up until his cock almost slips out to slide back down, clutches Cullen’s knees to support himself. He starts a rhythm, the ache in his legs barely noticeable with the pleasure building in him with every thrust. Oh, but he’ll be sore tomorrow, all for the good reasons.

Cullen starts to meet his hips, and Dorian’s almost bouncing on his cock at this point, gasping and moaning, sweat gathering between their skin. His own dick has been neglected thus far and is wet with precum. He palms it with a whine, stops moving for a second to adjust his position so he’s not falling. Cullen sits up at his back and embraces him from behind to fuck into him. His strokes are short and fast, shifting his legs so he can get in deep.

“Dorian,” he moans, mouths at his shoulder. Some blond curls fall all over Dorian, a perfect, golden mess. Now that Dorian can lean into his solid chest, he buries the hand not stroking himself in that pretty hair and yank so he can suck Cullen’s bottom lip into his mouth. He almost hits him with his horns, but Cullen easily dodges them to return his needy, filthy kisses.

He’s getting close, so close, he can feel it building in his gut. He tightens his grip on himself, strokes faster, faster, until he’s coming all over his stomach and his hand. He pants hard against Cullen’s lips as his body shivers and his hole spasms around that big cock still going at it inside of him. 

“Come on, _kydajyv. Fudd py. f silz za oyyd haf vyye ul py,_ ” he whispers, not realizing he’s talking in Infernal. 

Cullen’s eyes widen, his irises almost black, and he’s coming with a deep groan, filling him with his hot cum. Dorian lets go of his hair, strokes his forearm while he rides his orgasm. Afterwards he dislodges himself to fall on the bed on his back. He’s sticky and his legs hurt, but he’s loose and content. He smiles sappily when Cullen presses a damp kiss on his forehead and gets up to get a wet rag to wipe them both with. He’s careful with him, gentle and kind, nothing Dorian is used to.

Once Cullen is done, he curls around him without a shame, sighing contentedly once he’s settled in Dorian’s arms. Dorian tries to tame his hair before giving up and simply basking in the moment.

“What was it that you said?” Cullen mumbles into his neck. Dorian needs a second to understand what he said and then he laughs, grateful he can’t see his uncomfortable expression.

“Nothing important. Filthy things about you coming in me.” He doesn’t mention the endearment term, because it doesn’t matter. Cullen will take his fill of him and leave like the others did, no matter this nonsense about dreaming of him. 

Afterwards, Dorian retrieves his chess set and they play naked on the bed. His tail can’t stop stroking the soft fine hairs on Cullen’s thickly muscled thighs. It’s quiet, more comfortable than Dorian has expected. Cullen is adept at chess, but he keeps getting distracted by Dorian’s nakedness and doesn’t notice Dorian cheating until he’s pushing his king aside. 

“Check mate, dear.”

Cullen counts his fallen pieces, frowning. “You cheated.”

Dorian smirks, looks at him through his lashes. “Did I?” He resets the game but doesn’t get too far as Cullen crosses over to kiss him. His hand is warm on his neck and Dorian leans into it.

“When I was talking with Cole this morning, he made me realize something.”

“He does that a lot.”

“About you.”

“About me?”

“Would you like to come with us, to Skyhold? I think you’ll get along greatly with the others, and your magical abilities would be appreciated, and… I would really like it.”

Dorian swallows, surprised. “But we’ve only known each other for two days.”

“Iron Bull joined us in the mist of dealing with a murder investigation, and he’s been with us ever since.”

“Why do you need to go to Skyhold?”

Cullen kisses his cheeks, his nose, his lips, before he installs himself beside him.

“There’s a tournament happening in half a month, a big event that hasn’t occurred in decades. Whoever wins get a lot of gold and a title in the Inquisition. Our group would be put forefront for any inquisitive matters, and we suspect it’s in preparation of an ineludible menace. What do you think of it?”

The idea is certainly appealing. To belong to a group and do more change than staying in this small town. He likes the current comfortable routine, but all this time he’s felt like it was just a temporary place for him, and if there’s indeed a threat, he wants to help.

“I was in your dreams, was I not?”

“I don’t want that to pressure you.” Cullen shakes his head, his hands tight on the covers. “It’s your decision, and I will respect it either way.”

“So be it. I will accompany you to Skyhold, given the other party members are in agreement.”

“You let me take care of that,” Cullen smiles at him, his eyes sparkling and hair glimmering. He tugs Dorian to him, suddenly impatient, and the Tiefling laughs through his sweet kisses.

**Author's Note:**

> Dorian uses "beloved" in Infernal during the smut scene, which is his native language. 
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](http://cap-sweet-and-salty-sadness.tumblr.com/).


End file.
